Stand Back, Watch It Burn
by EMPG22HoPe
Summary: Narcissa keeps to herself behind the manor's closed doors after Lucius's attempt to protect his legacy. She will never be the same again.


**Stand Back, Watch It Burn  
** by _**EMPG22HoPE**_

* * *

 _I'm erasing myself from the narrative._

* * *

 _I knew you were mine_ _._ _You said you were mine_ _ **.**_ _ **I thought you were mine.**_

The fog grew against the glass as she breathed out a sigh. Her blue eyes drifted lazily towards the manor's grounds. It wouldn't hurt to step out for some fresh air, let nature take its gentler course towards her. Summer was upon them, after all, and she always did enjoy the feeling of the sun against her alabaster skin. A nice tan, perhaps, would be pleasant.

But she couldn't stomach leaving the house. No, not even the gorgeous recesses of the manor's patio just outside the dining hall was safe for her. Ever since the scandal, she had never felt safe. Not because people were after her life, but because being outside made her feel like she was being judged, even when she knew no one was around to do so.

Narcissa felt her heart twinge. She loved the outdoors. Until _he_ made her hate it all the more.

So much has happened since. The memory caused tears to stream down her cheeks. Her breath hitched, making it difficult to expel her pain. She couldn't breathe. She found it hard to, especially when she had tried to stay for no more than a few seconds outside.

Now, she was merely a breathless, walking shell of the woman she used to be. Forcing herself to hide from the world, walking the halls of Malfoy manor and making it her only solitude. But even the manor was enough of a reminder of what had happened.

 _The scandal. Lucius's affair. The Daily Prophet's hurtful words._

Her reputation, her son's reputation, all vanished by a single mistake her husband did.

When will she ever learn?

* * *

 _"You have married an_ _ **Icarus**_ _._ _He has flown too close to the_ _ **sun**_ _."_

The first time Lucius was away—likely fixing the scandal he had created in the first place—Narcissa was surprised to find Andromeda flooing into Malfoy manor.

They had not spoken since Andromeda ran away to be with a muggle-born. Narcissa felt sick to her stomach just seeing her sister. But her pain got the better of her anger, and she had collapsed in Andromeda's arms long before either of them could put out a word.

Narcissa wept in her sister's arms, Andromeda brushing away at the younger Black's golden hair. If Bellatrix were here, it would have been a complete set. But she was off somewhere, likely tracking down Lucius herself and doing Merlin knows what things for what he did to her baby sister.

"You've married an Icarus, Cissy," Andromeda whispered after a breath. Narcissa's heart raced painfully. "He's flown too close to the sun."

She wanted to be angry at her sister for even saying it, but she wasn't daft enough to deny it.

The entire day dragged on as they wordlessly held each other then. Andromeda finally left when she saw Lucius come back through the floo network.

Lucius was shocked. Andromeda shot him a fitful glare. She looked as though she wanted to hex him right then and there, but Narcissa saw her sister's hesitation. Perhaps Andromeda would do it where Narcissa wouldn't see.

When her sister had gone, Narcissa rose. Lucius tried to reach for her and say something, but she backed away, too afraid to be burned any more than she already was. The pain in her eyes was enough indication that she would never look at him the same way again.

* * *

 _I'm burning the letters you wrote me_ _._ _You can stand over there if you want_ _._ _I don't know who you are_ _.  
_ _I have so much to learn_ _._ _I'm re-reading your letters_ _and watching them burn._

The flames danced excitedly as it licked the parchments Narcissa threw into them. Every cursive letter of Lucius's words burned into singes of nothing but black. She had re-read them obsessively for quite some time, trying to find any sort of hesitation towards his declarations of love.

But his words were so full of admiration. Every word twisted to perfection in making her heart race. It was almost impossible to distinguish any fault. The words, back then, had been genuine, made Narcissa completely _helpless_ towards the attraction they've formed.

Those words, however, meant nothing to her now. Because if he _truly_ did love her, then he never would have strayed. He never would have taken another woman into their bed as she and their son, Draco, were away to Grimmauld Place.

She heard his familiar footfalls approach her in the drawing room. Narcissa stood from where she knelt, dusting her hands off to rid of the ashes that had caught on as his letters burned.

Lucius started for her.

" _Don't,_ " Narcissa said weakly. "I can't be trusted around you."

"Narcissa, please—"

Narcissa whirled to glare at him. " _Don't_."

The proud Malfoy took a step back, looking as though she had just burned him. His cold, grey eyes drifted towards the fireplace. A look of recognition crossed his features, causing his body to sag. He pursed his lips, sighed, and tried to open his mouth—

But Narcissa was already storming out of the drawing room. She had no interest in listening to what he has to say.

* * *

 _Heaven forbid someone whisper, "He's part of some scheme."  
Your enemy whispers, so you have to __**scream**_ _._

Lucius Malfoy had been speculated for embezzling Ministry funds. It was no question, given the wealth the Malfoys have that overlaps any other pure-blood family in Britain. None of which were true, of course. The Malfoys earned their wealth long before Lucius, and his enemies—which were plenty in number—had fabricated such rumors to take away his position in the Ministry.

Her husband, being the most vocal man she's ever met, didn't know when to stop shooting his mouth off. The trail of galleons that his enemies discovered was not for embezzlement. Far from it.

It was a payment to a Mr. Rosier. The galleons were paid monthly, at a very handsome price, and it was not Ministry funds that Lucius had paid for. He had used his own wealth for such. The payments were made to keep Mr. Rosier from revealing Lucius's affair to Mr. Rosier's wife, Verida Rosier, a year ago.

Narcissa frowned at her reflection. She looked paler than usual. But even as she stared, she wondered; _what did Verida Rosier have that I didn't_?

* * *

 _I know about whispers. I see how you look at my_ _ **sister**_ _._

Narcissa stared through the window once more. Her hand reached out to touch the glass in the hopes that if she did, she could feel the soft touch of the flowers in her garden, or the cold wetness of the little pond that housed the family's peacocks. It was a painful illusion, but it's more than she could hope for.

Perhaps she should have seen it sooner—his charms with other women, the way they flocked around him as though he were the last source of water. She had not minded then, felt jealous, perhaps, but hardly minded, because she knew that even as they surrounded him—his grey eyes searched the room still for hers.

Oh, but perhaps he should have seen the way he spoke to Bellatrix. With such an endearment that she could have sworn she had mistaken it for something else. But being the naïve little sister, she ignored it.

A choke escaped her lips. Her hand balled into a fist against the glass of the window. How could she have not seen it sooner?

" _I mean, if you really love me, you would share him," Bellatrix had teased not too long ago, just when Narcissa had just graduated from Hogwarts._

" _Ha!" Narcissa stuck out her tongue at Bellatrix. "Never. That boy is mine."_

Maybe she should have seen that her sister actually meant it.

She ached to run out of the dreary manor, ached to feel the grass under her feat, smell the air of nature as it is. But she took a step back away from the window, riding herself of temptation. No matter how much she wished, she would never give herself the pleasure of what's out there.

If she couldn't win her husband's love, perhaps she did not deserve the finer things in life either.

* * *

 _Let future historians wonder how Narcissa reacted_ _when you_ _ **broke**_ _her heart._

To prove his innocence from speculation, he released the truth about the large amount of galleons being moved to Mr. Rosier. And to make the matter more believable, Lucius had published the letters he exchanged with Verida Rosier whilst she and Draco were away at her family's home.

Narcissa had compared his letters to Verida to the letters he sent her during their courtship.

Both the same flowery words of declaration, but his to Verida had an added obscenity that nobody should have had the opportunity of reading. And yet, _just to prove a point_ , he still put it out there. She wasn't sure who she felt sorrier for: herself or Verida. Surely, the woman had not asked to be exposed in such a way. He had shamed them both.

And yet, that woman knew that Lucius was a married man.

The embarrassment she felt as she read those letters, knowing how everyone in Britain must have already read it—she couldn't bear the thought of showing her face to anyone. Despite how little Draco tried to pursue her to join him outside to play quidditch with, she simply couldn't.

It broke her heart more to know that she couldn't function like a proper mother for her son. Narcissa rose up to sit on the bed she had kept to herself for months now since the scandal.

She had been a horrible mother. Narcissa let out a deafening cry.

The door of her room burst open. Draco, still so young at ten, entered with a worried look. She had always known her son pressed his ears against her door. Maybe she should have been quieter.

"Mum?" Draco asked with a voice so small, worry etched on his face. He was the spitting image of Lucius. But she couldn't hate her only son for being so. She loved him far too much. And she had been a terrible mother.

"Come here, my little star," Narcissa called to him as she spread her arms wide open.

Draco trotted towards his mother, taking over the small space before her. She wrapped him into her warm hug, letting the existence of her precious boy give her some semblance of her still being alive. Then, she had begun to whisper between fretful tears, "I'm so sorry…"

Her son pulled away to catch the tears that streamed down her cheeks. "It's not your fault, mum. It's not your fault."

Narcissa wept as her son held her.

* * *

 _And when the time comes, explain to our son, the pain and embarrassment you put his mother through.  
_ _When will you learn that he is your legacy? We are your_ _ **legacy**_ _._

"When's the last time you saw her?" Narcissa had heard Draco ask his father outside her room.

Her doors were locked from the inside to keep people away. It was one of those days where she simply couldn't see anyone, and refused to see anyone, for that matter. The house elves brought her food to her, but had told them that if they don't stop Lucius from barging in, she would personally punish them herself.

The situation had merely made her heart become as cold as ice.

She was mulling over by the window again, watching the birds fly and the peacocks parade around the manor grounds. They were so beautiful, so earthly, and so alive. Narcissa craved for that feeling, but how could she ever, when she was still left feeling as though the very life had been sucked out of her?

"How could you hurt mum that way?" Draco had asked, shrieking angrily. "Don't you love her?"

Narcissa did not bother to hear Lucius's answer as she drifted to sleep.

* * *

 _If you thought you were mine  
_ _ **Don't**_

It had been months since Narcissa's last argument with Lucius. She had trashed the living room, throwing every bit of furniture at him, sending every hex she could have possibly remembered his way. Her sense of control had been lost, then, when she read his admittance in the _Daily Prophet_. How he published his scandal to keep the ministry officials from speculating him for embezzlement. How he refused to acknowledge the _damage_ he had done on himself and his family.

She promised herself it would be the last, because her fragile heart could no longer take much of it. Narcissa had sunken into a stupor of silence, muted to the point of hiding herself away from the world. The shame she dragged with her was too much to bear, even more if she attempted to leave the manor.

It hurt so terribly to look at him.

"I love you. Tell me that's enough!" Lucius had told her one time during dinner, with Draco away at Grimmauld Place, trying once again to explain his side. To ask for forgiveness. He had chosen so many lighter options in the past few months, threading and walking around eggshells when it came to her.

But she knew at one point he was going to snap. His pride was apparently far more important than her wounded heart.

"It's _not_. Not after what you did." Narcissa's voice croaked weakly, shaking her head as she put her cutlery down. Fresh tears filled her eyes as she stared at her barely eaten meal. "If you loved me, you would not have strayed."

"Narcissa, please," Lucius tried, his voice more pleading now; the gentle stroke of a lover's voice. She felt his hand lay on top of hers on the table. "Please, Cissy. I love you. I don't know what you want me to do. Just please tell me. I would do anything. Give _anything_ to take back what happened."

Narcissa inhaled sharply as she stared at him through her tears. "No galleon to your name will _ever_ be enough to fix what you've done."

Lucius squeezed her hand softly. "I'll do better. I promise I'll do better."

When she finally managed a better view of him despite her tears, she saw the way his brows contorted in desperation. She had not realized that he had been crying too. His eyes were red and strained, but not as much as hers.

Grasping Narcissa's hand, Lucius _dropped_ to his knees from his seat at the table, unable to look his wife in the eye.

"We have to try." he whimpered, head bent. "I— _I'll_ try. I'll try **harder** , Narcissa. I promise. You don't have to forgive me, but…"

There was a slight pause. _Let me be a part of the narrative_ , she thought he might say.

" _Let me_ **try**. T—to be a better _husband_ , a better _father_ , a better _man_." Lucius pleaded, and Narcissa could barely look away, for her husband _never_ would have groveled on his knees for just anyone. "I'll prove myself again. I'll do _anything_ and **everything** I have to, Narcissa. I can make this _work_ again, but I can't do this _without you_. Please… _let me try_."

It was all she could have possibly asked for. She already played the words she wanted to say in her head. The words echoed something like; _yes, we can try to start somewhere. I can't promise forgiveness. Merlin, if you could try, I would take it. But please, just give me some time._

Every fiber of her being had been pressing to release those words.

But then she remembered her solitude; how she refused to leave the house, how she trapped herself into her own shame because of what her husband did. It was as everyone seemed to have thought of her.

She had erased herself from the narrative.

Instead of those words, she slowly pulled away from his hold. Lucius's head snapped up fretfully.

"Don't," Narcissa whispered the word so delicately, but it was enough to destroy the very fabric of their moment. It was enough to end them. "Just don't."

* * *

 **Prompt(s):**

Task 1 – Herbology: Write about someone who doesn't like to go outside ( _Assignment_ _#11_ )  
662\. Dialogue - "When's the last time you saw her?" ( _Insane House Challenge_ )  
95\. Dialogue - "I love you. Tell me that's enough!" ( _365 Prompts_ _Challenge_ )  
67\. Write a gift-fic for a Hufflepuff (for Slytherin Buttercat) ( _Fanfiction Resolutions Challenge)  
_ 6\. Write a gift fic for someone in your house (for Slytherin Buttercat) ( _May Event - Scavenger Hunt_ )

 **Word(s):** 2,687 words

 **Character(s):** Narcissa Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy, Draco Malfoy

* * *

 **AN:** Happy belated birthday to my fellow Hufflepuff in the Hogwarts forum, Butter (aka Slytherin Buttercat)! Here's a little angst-y Narcissa/Lucius fanfic for you. I hope you had a lovely birthday this month. :3

This entire fic is based off the _First Burn_ sung by the five Eliza's from the Hamilton: An American Musical broadway. It's a much deeper and angrier version of Philippa Soo's "Burn" from the same musical, and I thought it would be _such_ a fitting song for an idea where Lucius protects his reputation by ruining it instead with something much worst (Hamilton done messed up, y'all). I thought it would be an interesting take on their relationship and dynamic.

Please R&R! And thank you for reading. :')

 _ **EMPG22HoPe**_


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